Games
by InvaderSpockX
Summary: What happens when the three most admirable detectives partner's are kidnapped by an insane criminal? Worlds collide. Personality clash. Friendships are made. Mysteries are solved. Sherlock, Psych, and Monk. Enjoy.
1. Letter

_Dear, "Detectives"_

_Ah, look you. With your fancy cases and big brains. Thinking you can outsmart everyone._

_ It's just precious. The way you think you're so cool. You have the police departments eating_

_ off the floor and the FBI can't touch you. You've solved high profiles in every place at every_

_ time. Families thank you for the solving of the crimes. You get no good, dirty scum of the_

_ streets. Everyone the whole world loves you. Except me. Oh don't get me wrong I admire_

_ all of you. I think you're very smart and I respect you. But that little smirk you all have just_

_ makes me so mad. I make bad decisions when I'm mad. Very bad decisions. As you're about_

_ to find out very soon. Just telling you that it isn't about money, love, or revenge or anything like_

_ that. No, this is about you, and only you. So get ready fellas, cause this time, it's personal. _

_Sincerely,_

_ ..._


	2. Invite

"Watson!" Sherlock Holmes, who had asked an hour ago for a pen, now looked up at the empty chair that his partner should have been sitting in. "Hm." He said at first and then looked closer at Watson's chair. It was mostly the same as it always was but he saw something else there. There was an obvious sheet of lined paper tucked in the cushion of the chair. Sherlock picked up the paper. Even before he read the note, had noted that it was typed in a pinyon script font and was printed on an Epson printer.

_ Seriously, I just broke into your house and kidnapped your partner without you noticing, you'll need to be better than that to get him back. Come to Santa Barbara and we'll see how bad you are. 1458 Harrison Street at 2:50 July 15 that's where you should probably start._

Sherlock felt a slight twang of panic and emotion, but quickly ignored it as it did nothing for him. He threw the paper back onto Watson's chair. He pulled out his phone and booked a flight to California. He didn't even bother to alert anyone of this trip. Sherlock was not the biggest fan of America, but Watson was necessary for many cases. He tucked his phone in his vest pocket. He grabbed his jacket from the table and ran out of the door and down the stairs, ignoring Mrs. Hudson's chatter. He thought about the note that was left. The use of sarcasm and humor suggested that it was either someone who didn't know what they where doing or someone who knew exactly what they were doing. The person made jabs at Sherlock and wanted to playfully provoke him. He didn't have as much out of the note as he normally did. He could not even tell if the person is male or female. Sherlock turned his attention back to reaching his plane on time. He ran around the block before calling a cab to take him there.

Shawn walked into the Psych office with an ice cream cone. "Hey, Gus did you know they make cake batter ice cream now. He was surprised when he found the office empty. Then he noticed the window wide open. He shrugged and sat in Gus' desk and put his feet up. His eyes spotted a sheet of lined paper that's typing was strange. He looked at the door quickly to see if Gus was coming in. He then preceded to read the paper.

_Guess what Shawn? I got him. I have Gus. Your password is 1234, I mean COME ON! Anyway, yeah I'm a kidnapper and I just took Gus, don't even bother notifying anyone or looking for clues. I'll just give you a lead right now! __1458 Harrison Street at 2:50 July 15, be there or be square! P.S. I ate all of your Cheetos._

"Damn it, my Cheetos!" He said at first, before he comprehended the note. "Oh, no." He looked at the calender It was July 14 and he made the huge decision to wait and not tell anyone until the meeting or what ever it was going to be. But he did know he would be able to sleep or eat. So he just read the note over and over again making sure he couldn't make anything of it. Pretty soon he looked up and it was nine and getting dark outside, " A criminal has Gus." He repeated until it sunk in. What if they killed him? No, don't like that. He knew that wild 'what if's' weren't going to do anything for him or Gus and that ice cream was currently oozing all over his hand. He got up to wash it off and blankly looked at himself in the mirror. He was just waiting for a criminal to give him Gus. This wasn't Shawn Spencer the psychic detective. This was Shawn Spencer the desperate best friend.

Adrian woke up at seven in the morning just like every day. Immediately he knew something was wrong. Natalie was supposed to stay over this night because he thought that maybe one of his posters were uneven. He got up and put on his robe. "Natalie!" He called out in the kitchen. Assuming that she fell asleep on the couch, Adrian walked into living room to find nothing but a piece of paper crumpled on the sofa. He ran over to throw it away. Then, wondering where it came from he carefully fixed it and read the writing.

_Sorry about the mess. I happens when you kidnap someone. Namely Natalie. No, she didn't leave. I took her from your apartment. Oh, I also think that I messed up a picture on your wall, sorry she ran, like, straight in to it. Don't worry, Julie's at summer camp. If you want to find her go to __1458 Harrison Street in Santa Barbara at 2:50._

Monk first threw away the paper and fixed the picture. Then he began to hyperventilate. This person had come into his house night and kidnapped his assistant. His got dressed and brushed his teeth until nine. He then got in his car. Santa Barbara was five hours away and he knew that Natalie might already be dead. He didn't even bother to call the Captain or Randy. Time was already wasting, that, of course, didn't stop him from obey all traffic laws to unnecessary lengths. If this sick bastard kills Natalie...He'd probably go into another break down. He tried to remember the last thing she said to him. It was something like, "You know Mr. Monk I do have a life. I can't just be babysitting you all the time." He hadn't even responded, he had simply fallen asleep. This kidnapper didn't know who they were messing with. He would solve this case, just like all the time. Just another lowlife. Oh, how wrong he was.


	3. Be Friendly

Sherlock looked skeptically at the Italian resturant in front of him. This is 1458 Harrison. He cautious step in the room. He tried to observe and such, but a perky blonde waitress tackled him. "Hi Mr. Holmes, my name is Stacey, I'll be your server today. Let me show you to my table." The single, only child, English major walked him to a booth. "Here's your table, Mr. Holmes would you like something to drink?" He shook his head and the girl left. It was only then that he noticed a young man sloched the booth with his feet on the table. He was shoving bread in his mouth and reading the menu.

"Excuse me, sir. But this is my table."

The man looked up, "if this is your table then I'm Tyler Durin and you're still a crazy insomniac office worker. But I think I'm more handsome than Brad Pitt." Sherlock scoffed. The man stood and extended his hand. "Shawn Spencer."

Sherlock shook it, "Sherlock Holmes."

Shawn snickered, "Alright, Shamrock I know this is my table because the hot waitress told me it my table, BOOM!"

Sherlock laughed humorlessly, "Look, I'm a private detective and I'm here to invesitgate a personal missing persons report. So step aside."

Shawn's jaw dropped, " PI? Personal missing person.? Wait, was your assistant kidnapped and replaced by a note?!"

Sherlock sat beside Shawn, "What are you some sort of Psychic?

He smiled, " as a matter of fact..."

"Let me stop you right there, " Sherlock cut Shawn off, "I know you have your whole psychic routine, but let's face it, you lie to everyone, except your assistant, which I assume has been taken by the same person who took mine."

Shawn muttered audiblely, "Smartass." He took a drink from a coke.

Stacey suddenly appeared out of no where, " Would you like to get me to get you started with something?"

Shawn began to speak but Sherlock cut him off, again, "No, I'm still deciding." The waitress shrugged and walked off. "So your a PI as well?"

Shawn Rolled his eyes, "Duh."

"How in hell did you become a PI, you look nothing short of an idiot."

"Looks can be deceiving."Shawn put down his drink.

"So can people." Sherlock watched Shawn more cautiously now. It wasn't too long ago that he made a terrible mistake of thinking that a man was ordinary, only to find out that Jim from the hospital was also Jim from hell.

Shawn sighed, "Why are we here? This place is completely fine, what are we looking for?" Sherlock would never admit it, but he too was confused as to why he was present. Just then another man, older than both of them without showing it too much, walked with Stacy over to the table.

"Hello," Sherlock said to the man once Stacey left.

"S'up," Shawn leaned back.

"I'm sorry, " he pointed to the direction Stacy went, "she told me this was you table, she must be confused. He looked scared, but Shawn stepped in

" PI with a missing Assistant?" The man nodded, "This is your table." He pulled a wipe from his jacket pocket and cleaned the seat before sitting on it. Then he preceded to fumble around with the silverware.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is Shawn Spencer." He nodded to the youngest man.

" Adrian Monk." Shawn snickered, Sherlock glared. "Call me Monk."

" Alright then, Mr. Monk. I believe that if we are all in this situation it must have something to do with each of us..." Sherlock was cut off by Stacey.

"I'm sorry, guys, but the person who made your reservation told me to give you this." She laid a box on the table.

" What did the person look like?"

Stacey shrugged, "All through the Internet." She walked away. They all turned their attention to the box, which was addressed to them. "Should we open..?" Monk began, only to realize Shawn was a already ripping it open. Inside was a scroll. Sherlock uncurled so they could all see the typing.

_What's up bitches! Say hello to your new friends. Thought it'd be interesting if you would all do this together. I wish I was there to take a group picture. Any woo hoo, if you lovelies ever want to see your partners again I suggest you accept each other. If one of you parts ways then I with kill them all slowly with periodic pictures, and my camera's storage space sucks so I really don't want to do that. Monk's playing first. Go to aircraft hanger C at the airport. See ya :)_

" what the?"

" let's go" Sherlock ran out with the rest following.

" What was that?" Shawn caught up.

Sherlock continued to try and walk ahead of them, "No idea." Sherlock was stuck with these two morons until this was over. Watson had to be found and that was the fact, but he may not survive these idiots. Monk was carefully stepping over cracks in the sidewalk.

" What did it mean I was playing first?"

They shrugged. Whoever was doing this was strangely elusive. They had almost no information about was going on. They were still the world's best detectives, and they had been through worse. Aircraft Hanger C will hopefully be the start and the end of this incredibly inconvenient ordeal. They reached the Hanger and stopped at the door.

"We ready?" Shawn called out. Sherlock rolled his eyes and open the doors


	4. Should I Finish?

Please tell me if you want me to continue this story. If literally any human being says I should, I will.


End file.
